


The King in the Woods

by RustedWireWitch



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: 18th Century, 18th Century Europe AU, Fae & Fairies, Forests, Halloween Gift Exchange, High Heels, M/M, Mud, stay on the path
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-15 09:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21250958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RustedWireWitch/pseuds/RustedWireWitch
Summary: [18th Century rural European AU]Halloween gift fic for Jenicorn!Seto Kaiba sets off into the woods to find his missing brother. He knows to follow the path, because leaving it could find him stumbling upon the court of the King in the Woods.





	The King in the Woods

Damp air clung to Kaiba's face as he strode through the forest, cooling his skin and running in beads down through his woollen cloak. He wiped a gloved hand across his cheek and pressed on, trudging thick boots through the rich blackness of the woodland's mud. It was a mild summer, and the morning rains had left everything unseasonably cool. The young man found himself glad of the warmth his travelling clothes offered him.

  
He followed the path as best he could, having to clamber over the occasional root and collapsed rock formation that did their best to obscure the way. It remained paved for only the first few hour or so of his journey, before giving way to a feral trail that rambled through the landscape. The surrounding greenery did its level best to stay out of his way, letting only the odd leaf or slender tendril encroach on the edge of the path.

  
Birds sang in the branches overhead, though since entering the forest Kaiba was certain he hadn't seen any. Fluttering wings just out of sight as small species called out to one another, while somewhere high overhead something far larger and more predatory let out a distant cry of its own. He glanced upwards, but saw nothing except for the twisting boughs of the trees around him, cutting off sight to the outside world. They even did a fair job at blocking out the sun, letting in only the odd ray here and there. It would do. For now. If things got much worse, Kaiba realised that it may have been a mistake to leave home with only a single light source. He doubted he would find much in the way of dry wood anywhere nearby, and the thought of being caught out here when the sun finally went down did not fill him with confidence. He frowned and carried on.

  
The stone path had long ago given way to trodden dirt, which had in turn changed over time to something far more elusive. The grass was bent over so slightly, perhaps a shade darker as it followed a course to the heart of the forest. It was everything Kaiba could do to keep a close eye on it and make sure that he didn't leave the path, inspecting the ground around his feet as he marched onwards, watching for any change of colour or quality. Such interest in what was directly below him left him wholly unaware of what was ahead, and his right boot pressed down onto the soft mud of the ravine edge before he had even noticed it.

  
There was a sudden lurch, a moment where his stomach felt as though it had rushed up into his chest, and then Kaiba was tumbling in rapid fashion down the side of some muddy ledge, kicking up turf and soil as he did so. He landed in a heap at the bottom, a cloud of fallen leaves erupting into the air at his impact. He opened his eyes, wiping a thick deposit of black mud from one of them, watching the gentle rain of the leaves around him. A cascade of gold and red as they settled back into place, drawing around him like a blanket. He sucked in a lungful of air between his teeth, grimacing at the sudden bitter cold he found there. He felt the urge to curse out loud, but managed to retain his composure by the time he had gotten to his feet, hefting up the satchel that had fallen away from him. He checked his belt, finding his hunting knife still in place and in one piece.

  
Looking about himself, he found that he was in an untouched pocket of the forest, the path completely lost under a vast sea of dead leaves. The trees that interlocked their branches high above were darker and more gnarled, with leaves pockmarked with holes and rot. This part of the woods seemed as though it were locked in autumn, the cool air seeming far more oppressive here, visible and snaking in rivers of grey mist.

  
He gave a backwards glance at the hill he had taken the humiliating tumble from. He saw the slickness of the mud and the almost vertical incline, wondering whether it had seemed like such a steep fall when he had taken it. He shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh, turning back to the forest route ahead of him. Heading onwards through the dead leaves, he tasked himself to find what he was looking for this way, or at the very least find his way back to his original path.

  
The birdsong had faded away since the fall, with only the occasional hoarse croak of an unseen crow replacing it. In time even that disappeared, leaving a heavy silence lingering in the air. The dry crackle of leaves and twigs underfoot gave way to the slime and slurry of winter muck, the cold seeping in through Kaiba's boots. The trees pressed in ever more tightly, no longer bearing amber and crimson leaves, bearing nothing at all in fact. The sunlight had become almost entirely snuffed out, leaving just enough twilight gloom for him to see a few feet ahead and the plumes of mist rising from his lips with every tired breath.

  
He opened his satchel and reached in with numb fingers, closing them around the haft of his torch and pulling it free. It took a little longer to dig his flint and tinder out, the tips of his fingers long since failing to register sensation besides the aching chill. He took spark to the rags of his torch and felt a rush of relief as the flame swelled and bathed him in warmth.

  
It gave him light to see by too, and with that he caught sight of the vast standing stone ahead of him. Even in the murky light before, he was sure he wouldn't have missed such a bizarre and enormous ornament, and yet here it was. Porous, soft stone that had been etched and carved into with thousands of similar if not identical designs. Each one showed a stylised eye, staring out in every direction into the surrounding woods. The light of Kaiba's torch flicked in the gentlest of winter breezes, lending a semblance of animation to the carvings, making them seem as though they blinked and altered their gaze every few seconds. Kaiba approached, raising a hand to touch the stone, his fingers barely an inch from its surface.

  
The laughter behind him made him recoil and spin on the spot, fast enough that he lost his footing on the moist ground and collapsed in the mud, free hand grasping for the handle of his knife. The laughter intensified, high and cruel, echoing through the branches like the bird-songs of the morning. Just as with the birds, he couldn't catch sight of those that were mocking him, but he did see one single figure directly ahead of him, observing him with quiet curiosity.

  
Seated on what could only be described as a throne, fashioned from the interwoven branches of the nearby trees, was a tall and elegant man sitting with one long leg crossed over the other, smiling at Kaiba as the young man scrambled to his feet.

  
The seated stranger had hair the colour of the surrounding mist, falling over one half of his face, obscuring something glimmering in the darkness. Long, slender arms ended in delicate looking hands, thin fingers and nails that had been filed to dangerous tips and painted a deep and rich collection of black and blue hues. The clothing (if Kaiba could bring himself to call it such) that the stranger wore was fashioned from leather, arranged in cords and straps that criss-crossed his torso and wrapped tightly around the pale flesh of his throat. His legs would have been almost entirely bare, had it not been for a pair of black boots that clung to him, starting above the knee and ending on heels that looked as though they could cut through stone, and toes pointed almost straight downwards. The stranger pressed an elbow his throne and rested his head on the back of his hand, smiling down at Kaiba. It was the sort of smile that Kaiba imagined a cat would have when backing wounded vermin into a corner.

"Who are you?" He found himself asking, trying not to choke on the freezing air.

  
"You entered into my home unannounced, little warm princeling boy, I feel it would only be polite if you were to tell me your name first." The strangers voice was high and warbling, merry and musical. In an instant Kaiba could sense the artificial nature of it, the forced jovial song that hid an undercurrent of threat.

  
"My name is Kaiba. Seto Kaiba, I came here searching for my brother."

  
"There. A good set of manners, little lord Kaiba boy." The mocking laughter among the trees returned, bouncing from left to right and from near to far as though in some call and response pattern. Kaiba looked up and fancied that he could see figures in the branches high overhead. Entangled in black vines, suspended from the trees, their eyes hidden behind mud and leaves, some of them with twigs fastened between their teeth though doing nothing to halt their giggling. He turned his head ever so slightly and the visions were gone, simple illusions that the guttering of his torch had created from the uneven forest canopy.

  
"Has he come through here?" Kaiba asked, trying his best to look the stranger in his one visible eye. "He is young and foolish, and he may have left the path while wandering out here."

  
"Why do you think I might have seen him?" The stranger asked, pulling a theatrically quizzical face to the delight of his unseen audience.

  
Kaiba opened his mouth to answer, and then thought better of it.

  
"Tell the truth Kaiba boy, please." He was hunched over now, chin resting on a cradle of his fingers. "I cannot help you if you cannot be honest with me."

  
"Because there are stories that my brother and I were both told, that our parents and grandparents were told when they were children. Stories about the king in the woods, who takes children who wander off the path, takes them to his halls and they are never seen again."

"Oh how terrible," the stranger replied. "That wouldn't do at all. To never be seen again."

  
"Then the stories are at least as fanciful as I had thought." Kaiba allowed himself a moment of confidence.

  
"Indeed, Kaiba boy, indeed. When I take little princes and princesses that enter my home, I make sure they can be seen forever. Artwork adorning the halls of my palace, warm and safe and cherished. Forever."

  
The confidence that had swelled inside Kaiba now started to turn to anger, and he found his grip was tightening on the handle of his knife. The stranger was on him in less than a second, out of his throne and across the forest clearing in the time it took Kaiba to register that something was happening. How this monster could move so quickly on footwear so precarious, noiselessly over the forest floor. His face pressed close, close enough that he could see the glimmer beneath his hair more clearly now, at the golden eye set into a deep and dark socket. In the corner of his vision, he could see snow starting to fall through the boughs.

  
"Is that your true reason for coming here, little prince? To find your brother? Or to join him and be eternal? It is a long way to come, and a truly dreadful journey. It would be a shame to go through it all again to get home, when you could be in the warmth and hospitality of my halls."

  
Kaiba gently lifted the knife from his belt, and his strange companion grinned in response.

  
"No. I suppose I cannot expect you to simply give up and go home, nor simply give up and come to mine."

  
"Then what might you suggest?" Kaiba was doing his level best not to let fear and anger get the better of his voice.

  
"What I always suggest in times like these, Kaiba boy." The stranger patted his cheek and walked around him, the points of his heels leaving no track in the mud. "We're going to play a game."


End file.
